


Letters From an Angel (March)

by cardinalwrites



Series: Letters from an Angel [3]
Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, F/M, M/M, POV Castiel, Tumblr Blog, castielsentries, in some
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 03:29:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 14,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6888079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinalwrites/pseuds/cardinalwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel decided to keep a journal of all that he has thought about humanity, the Winchesters, and their daily lives. Takes you through current season 11 and will at times have destiel worthy canon occurrences from Castiel's point of view as well as episode codas depending on their original air dates. This is March, but the series will go through December.</p><p>All posts taken from @castielsentries, which is very active and ongoing so feel free to check it out</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. March 1, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This day was Jensen Ackles's birthday, therefore it is somewhat present in this entry

Hello,

It has been a total of 60 days thus far into this year (not including today) and I believe I have maintained my New Years’ resolution compared to others (namely Sam as he said he would train for a marathon and I have yet to see him run more than 5 miles). In these past two months a tremendous amount of change has occurred in my life, but at the same time it has been a time in where I have been able to interact and speak with many and reflect, even with the Darkness being an impending dilemma that we continue to face.

I am told it is the actor that plays Dean’s birthday today. I wish him the happiest of birthdays and do hope he is fairing well with all of his endeavors. Dean mentioned that his actor counterpart had an aquarium and a helicopter in his trailer once. I pray that the fish never come into contact with the helicopter, but this is most likely not the case in the universe in where this actor is celebrating his birthday. Or it may be. I never met him therefore I do not know.

In the case of what has been occurring today for me I am afraid to report that no major event has taken place that I believe I can write about thoroughly. There were a few hours in which I witnessed Hell in the middle of cleaning (A “spring cleaning”, I believe) that involved various broomsticks and storage containers filled with ligaments and spell ingredients, but I was not directly involved with the moving of any crates or bins.

While I am on the subject, I do find the notion of cleaning to be very helpful when I am stressed or pondering a dilemma. The act allows for me to forget the major instances that have been bombarding my brain begging for attention in favor of getting one task done at the moment, resulting in carrying out an assembly line that slowly but surely gets completed until I am left with a clean room and a sense of openness about it. It is quite the unnatural stress reliever, though how I am unsure. Brooms have proven to be very efficient in the matter, along with trash bags. 

It is in the process of cleaning that the rarest of objects can be found, such as perhaps a missing earring or money of any value, but they act almost as a small reward. Well, they can also act as a reminder of our ability to misplace objects for a considerable length of time, but my end point lies in that the lost item is now once again found, whether we had been searching for it or not. Therefore cleaning can serve as a both therapeutic process as well as an interesting game of Seek-And-Find (I have played quite a few of those on paper. They are very interesting).

I have talked about two or three different topics in the span of this entry, but I do suppose that I should at least go into detail over one (after all, is that not the purpose of these entries? We must record our memories). There was an instance in where Dean was cleaning the garage area of Bobby’s house before the fire that destroyed. I stood by per Dean’s request, because, and I quote, “You’d set the gasoline next to the machine and blow the house up so use your X-ray vision instead.” It was during this hour of rearranging oils and tools (and a continuing argument on my lack of X-ray vision) that Dean found a box filled with old letters and photos of his family with Bobby. The few hours after that were filled with recollections and stories, and had it not been for Dean’s spur of the moment decision (or in other words his way of evading doing research with Sam and me) those pictures would be nonexistent now.

I suppose I will have to leave you now, but in summary, happy birthday, Mr. Ackles; Spring Cleaning in Hell does not seem as enjoyable as cleaning another area (though the reason for it is understandable); and there is a treasure to finding that which we thought was lost.

 

Yours,

Castiel

 


	2. March 2, 2016

Hello,

If you have never had the chance to pick up a stick of condensed charcoal, I recommend against doing so in the near future. This is in no offense to the art tool, but the residue that is left on one’s hands as a result of constant handling of charcoal is rather difficult to remove and is still present even after having washed my hands more than 5 times.

Charcoal has many uses, though I have seen it most commonly connected to the production of artwork. What I did not expect upon being able to handle it, however, was just how quickly the tool will disintegrate upon usage by the artist. Also, how is charcoal compressed and condensed so well that allows for it to be malleable enough to be formed into these sticks that are then subsequently sold in art supply stores? I am sure there is a specific technique involved, therefore I am equally as sure that this technique also involves a mask of some sort due to the overwhelming amount of dust that is thrown into the air.

I remember having seen the substance in the hands of some of the greatest painters during the Renaissance and neoclassical period, but I never truly understood how skilled they were until I handled charcoal and attempted to use the medium. Charcoal is most definitely not an easily applied tool, but the end results of its work done by artists far more skilled than myself is truly indescribable.

The problem still remains about the amount of black particles that cloud my hands at. It has gone so far as to ingrain itself within the grooves of my fingers, making it even more arduous to rid my hands of its residue, and I have yet to talk about how to avoid my face so as to not leave charcoal stains there as well. It seemed that I failed at this, however, because I was told that I “looked like the chimney sweep from Mary Poppins.” I shall have to add that to my list of movies to watch.

I have a newfound appreciation for artists’ tools and how artists can manipulate one tool to create such masterpieces. It is truly riveting and fascinating. I did not succeed in this area, but I did attempt to draw a rather interesting smeared circle.

 Yours,

Castiel 


	3. March 3, 2016

Hello,

There has been constant movement that I have noticed in Lucifer’s domain over the duration of today. I did see more weapons brought back from crypts and other monuments, but in total it is still quite a time before I believe Lucifer can manage to attempt to confront Amara, if at this point he can continue it.

I would like to talk about a memory today, however, due to the issue of weapons having come up. I was reminded of the first few moments in where Sam and Dean encountered the angel blade. I was always armed with one, but in a moment before either Winchester could acquire another blade there came a time in where they would ask constant questions about the blade and it’s creation. There also was a time in where Dean attempted to steal it so as to test its durability.

He had called for my aid and resulted to asking permission to use the blade in battle, which I denied as it was the sole weapon I had during this particular time. Dean then proceeded to ramble about idioms that I had yet to understand as he attempted to grab the blade that I had lain on the table to show him. He failed to remember during that (either because he had just accepted that angels existed or that he simply underestimated an angel’s strength) I had superior strength as well as angelic powers, which only resulted in his attempt at thievery to go horribly awry, resulting in Dean being thrown into a nearby wall.

It was only after Dean debated with me about the blade that I let him hold the weapon on his hands, but not without my supervision. Either it was because of my curiosity in seeing how a human held the weapon or because I was unsure if Dean would stab me again I am unsure, but I made sure to have both eyes trained on the blade at all times while Dean tested its limits.

The blade did end up at one point as a glorified dart during these examinations, which only resulted in my confiscating the blade from Dean after he’d hit the wall roughly enough to cause a crack in the stucco. I do believe the motel of that particular area was not very fond of having to get it completely replaced (this is an angelic weapon after all, therefore the crack was by no means minuscule).

In seeing the spears and weapons Lucifer has had brought to the lair, this is the only memory I can think about. I can only imagine what an inexperienced Dean would have done with 10 foot long spears as darts.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	4. March 4, 2016

Hello,

One experience I do not know if I have ever elaborated on about my time as a human would have to be the incredible amount of fatigue that I felt in a short period of time. To feel sore or tired was not a completely unknown sensation to me, but during my time as a human it was almost as if the barrier that protected from such levels of tired feeling was lifted completely.

One specific example that I remember clearly would have to be during my journey to arrive back at the bunker, when I arrived in a town not far from Lebanon. I was in need to a laundromat that would allow me to wash my garments, but the owner would only let me do so if I agreed to let her watch the store while she went in the back and did an exercise routine.

I had already started to feel sore from the journey, but this woman then proceeded to close down the entire area and ask for me to be her partner in her exercise routine, something that I, though wary, did eventually attribute to be harmless. 

I quickly realized that a workout routine was a lot more strenuous than I anticipated.

My entire body was stinging after the owner had allowed for me to wash my clothes, which at that point had quite the putrid smell after sweating, but the owner gave me food while my clothes were washed and dried, therefore I do believe the entire ordeal was worth the effort it took to attempt it.

I did not believe that as wholeheartedly as I did the very next day following my leave of the laundromat. My back was screaming at me with every step, but the soreness in my muscles deadened after a few hours of traveling. Humans feel this way purposely? They choose to work out so deeply that the very next day they can barely move? I am afraid I do not understand. I vaguely registered the notion whenever I saw Sam running for recreation, but I had next to no idea just how deeply it could affect the human body.

It was quite the experience, but I suppose I do understand that it is only meant to make the human body stronger, better, faster. It does come with quite the large amount of work, but I do believe the end does justify the journey here.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	5. March 5, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AMOK, an Annual Melee of Kindness, started on this day

Hello,

I have seen quite a fair amount of kindness outside today. Many of those I walked passed either offered me a kindhearted hug or a few dollars in cash to buy myself a meal. They all acted under the idea of a movement known as AMOK, which, upon further inquiry, I learned to be an acronym for “Annual Melee Of Kindness.”

Kindness. Yes, that is something I thought I had begun to unfortunately see less and less in this world, with it’s constant debate on media traffic ways and it’s battles between injustice and misrepresentation. Kindness seemed to have been lost somewhere in that battle, but I have realized today that it was always there in some way, shape, or form, ready to lend a hand and heart to those that needed it the most. Today is not an exception in terms of the amount of outpouring and support I have seen, but it certainly became a highlight as I traveled and saw care packages being delivered to the elderly, money left at laundromats for those that needed it, books being passed out to encourage literacy, the list continues to grow with each passing minute. It brings me joy in an otherwise very dark world that I live in, and to see unknown faces smile as if they had been helped by angels is very gratifying, but the more I think about it, perhaps these humans acted on behalf of the altruistic angels today indeed.

There are days in which I am beginning to feel as if my life has not been completely altered by the string of recent events, times where I am instructed to “act myself” and am given a few moments of freedom. Maybe my brother inhaled the air enough today that the atmosphere has affected him enough to allow me to do so today, and for that I cannot complain. We still have a difficult journey ahead, but there are days such as today in where the sky can turn completely over again and I am able to say that human compassion has been as renewed as the daffodils that are calling for the beginning of spring.

A small boy came up to me as I sat in the park contemplating these thoughts, simply regarding the trees and nature amongst the contraptions of the playground. With his mother closely behind to supervise him, the boy offered me a small flower, one freshly cut from the nearby garden. He offered it in kindness because, and I quote, “You look grumpy mister.” It is interesting how children have this intrinsic ability to find the faults in others, and even more so how many choose to help rather than harm. I thanked both him and his mother for the flower, an apple blossom, a sign of better things to come.

I can only hope today and this flower truly live up to the amount of hope that I have accumulated in such a short period of time. I hope others see this side of life, and while many will not see it on such a grand display they may find it in the simplest gestures, perhaps in leaving a tip for a waiter or for offering to help one in times of need. Regardless of emotion, these people seem to enjoy brining about kindness and happiness in others. It is truly a human lesson that I will strive to remember in the future.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	6. March 6, 2016

Hello,

I overheard a conversation regarding evening wear and seasonal clothing appropriate options that piqued my curiosity. This man and woman were discussing the very growing prices of clothing and other garments, making sure to point out the influx of bathing suit attire that had recently come into stores that replaced the boots and heavier clothing options previously. This prompted me to examine the individual prices further, as while I did understand the concept of value when associated to a specific style of clothing, the financial system was a very different entity.

I learned the majority of what I know about money courtesy of my job during the time when I was human, therefore from a sales associate vantage point I was able to understand quality of a product and it’s proportion to a money value, but there were items at this particular store that were astronomically upsetting that balance. Why would a container of gum that holds the quantity of 30 units be sold for two dollars more than another container that housed the same amount? Also for clothing, if cotton is very much more common and easier to manufacture, why are items that hold that value four dollars more than items that are a 50%/50% blend of cotton and polyester? Cotton can be seen as more fibrous, but it does sport a smoother feeling in clothing. A mix of polyester and cotton can only be more fitting, no? Perhaps I still have much to learn concerning clothing.

I do enjoy looking at the variety of patterns and styles of clothing on the rare occasions we would shop for them. I do not elect to alter my choice of outer garments as frequently as Sam or Dean, however, despite my interest in why there is so much variety. It seems that the clothes that we wear are by extension a part of ourselves, therefore perhaps that is why I choose to remain wearing the same clothes or similar clothes that Jimmy had when he first consented.

This couple has gone on to discuss the financial system of the country, and it seems that is an entirely other subject that I do not have a good understanding in enough to discuss. To bring the discussion almost full circle, the couple then turned to me and I had feared I had been discovered and would be reprimanded. They did nothing of the sort, rather they asked me where I had my suit tailored. I heard myself say something to the effect of, “Handmade by the family tailor, may God rest his soul.” 

We do not have a family tailor, therefore I suspect Lucifer was referring to Crowley’s tailor. I felt myself quickly exit the store after that. It seems my brother was not prepared to speak to humans he did not have a vendetta against.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	7. March 7, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spring Break season was starting during this time in March

Hello,

There are a larger amount of young adults outside today, or at least I saw a much larger crowd walking around the local malls and shopping districts that were within young adult age. I am told that the season of “Spring Break” has begun for some, though I do not completely understand how a season can have a break. Spring has always been a time of new beginnings. Frankly, I do not understand why people would wish to have a break from it, but each human can have their own opinion about the weather I suppose.

With the abundance of people in the streets, I did find myself in less crowded areas, such as a local nature trail and community home. There were people knitting hats in one of the community homes, another sign of the still present bite of winter I vaguely registered in the air. This did not seem to bother the ones that were knitting the hats, however. They offered me a turquoise-colored hat, which I accepted, though not without questioning them on why they were choosing to create “beanies” during a time where the weather was changing to grow warmer. They simply responded by saying that any season was beanie season. I could not object to that.

There have been a string of rather overly pleasant days, a cause of the spark of spring surely. No matter the intentions of this “spring break,” I do find that enjoying the outdoors and seeing others do the same to give me a tranquil feeling. Humans enjoying the outdoors, free of other whispers or worries about tomorrow. Just simply enjoying the moment and enjoying free time they have found themselves with. 

Some are spending the time by giving back to others, as I have seen with a man and his daughter going to a store to buy camping supplies for the homeless in the park. The looks on these peoples’ aces upon receiving the gifts from the man rivaled the look of happiness of when a mother meets her newborn child. These people were given an extension of life through these gifts, the ability to live through another cold night or the ability to return home to their families without having to worry about money. Human compassion is something that I have seen less and less of recently, but with days such as today I have found that it has not completely disappeared. 

If more humans spent “Spring Break” like this then I understand why they would take time off from the season to do this. It is a very noble thing indeed.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	8. March 8, 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snapchat guys. Snapchat changed the world today.

Hello,

There has been a lot of clamor recently concerning an application and it’s recent “face swapping” feature. For those that are unaware it is when two people get into the camera frame and the camera then proceeds to interchange each person’s face and superimpose it onto the other, creating either a daily promising and odd reaction or a very disturbing image if the process glitches at any moment.

I can only assume the mechanics behind this feature are arithmetic sequences that develop into a computer graphics format that can be used, yes? Human faces cannot be physically swapped for one another readily from my understanding, and whenever I am under impression that the app is being used in my presence I hear exasperated cries or very loud-pitched tones coming from the two people using the app in question. I can see their faces during this process, and neither is suffering from the excruciating pain of their faces being torn off and placed onto the other. This must be a very interesting and yet intricate piece of technological software, or at least that is the most that I understand on the matter.

I have yet to attempt the software with anyone, but this is also most likely due to the fact that I have no idea how to download it or who to do it with given my present conditions, but even so I do remember Claire having mentioned the feature the last time I spoke with her. She said she had attempted to change her face with Jody unsuspectingly, but it only resulted in Claire screaming from what she ended up seeing in he camera. I am not sure if it was in happiness or in horror, but nevertheless the program does pique my curiosity.

I would very much like to know how the feature came to be. Who thought of this idea? How was it developed? For what is it’s purpose outside of scaring or bonding others by swapping their appearance. I have only seen a few of these pictures since my last hearing of them, but the videos are the most interesting to view and comprehend. The faces stay in their respective places until either one of the people moves abruptly, causing the system to either glitch in error or alter it’s appearance slightly to attempt to adapt. These are the ones in where I find the feature to be the most intriguing, though I am not entirely certain as to why. 

Regardless, I do see this application bring about much more happiness and pleasant shock than sorrow, therefore a new form of entertainment in this proves to be effective. I have since found the feature briefly, but I am not entirely sure how it functions to get it to work. Perhaps another day I will.

 

Yours,

Castiel 


	9. March 9, 2016

Hello,

Headaches, for me, I have are very common, regardless of humanity issues. It seems to be a universal stage of being, one in where stress is apparent in all forms, though that does not necessarily mean it is forever.

A memory comes to my very pained mind using thinking about this, one in where Sam had been suffering from a particularly impactful migraine while at the bunker a few years ago. I was sent to the local pharmacy in the hopes of retrieving some form of medicine to alleviate Sam’s pain in some form. When I had arrived to speak with the Doctor, however, I was very confused as to just what chemicals and medicinal remedies he was prescribing for me to take back. What are these intricate formulas? Do they relieve headaches or give them upon reading their names in full? I most certainly left the pharmacy much more confused then I had coming in, but I did possess some form of medication.

It seemed that the pharmacist had misunderstood me, however, when I had said Sam was of over 6, me referring to his height. Thus I was given a prenatal care version to treat headaches, one that did not help in his current predicament in the slightest. I do believe it did help his mood, however, because upon confessing my blunder he did laugh quite heartily. It was only after Dean drove with me and we retrieved the correct medication did his headache fully leave. I do feel however that It had only transferred to me during this particular situation. Headaches and other pains of the head are rather cumbersome in total… I hope my present state does subside soon.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	10. March 10, 2016

Hello,

It seems the notion of work has gotten the better of most people recently. The idea of these jobs taking over the lives of so many, and at the same time the idea of teaching for these said jobs have the same conclusion. This does remind me of when I was applying to be a sales associate during my time as a human being. 

If you do not know, the process of looking and finding a job can be both relatively easy as well as increasingly difficult depending on the value of the job in question, but for a sales associate job at a gas station, there was far more paperwork involved than I would have originally anticipated. They asked for government numbers and federal issued identification cards, badges that I have since understood and learned how to manufacture courtesy of paying attention to Sam and Dean. I knew that in order to have a job I must go through some form of elimination process so as to dismiss those not fit for the job, but I did not account for the interview session and later group training.

One would assume at first glance that working at a gas station would be a relatively easy and non-labourous job, just standing behind a register and monitoring the cash flow as customers paid for their toiletries and gasoline. One would be greatly mistaken as a result, quickly realizing that there is much to be done and many machines to learn in order to keep a business that caters to many tourists and locals alike flowing and running smoothly. I learned this quickly upon passing the initial interview and learning that food machines and drink areas were not instantly restocked. I still never quite fully mastered the slushy machine, let alone the concept of multitasking that my fellow coworkers seemed to master within the first hour.

I have yet to even mention our need to monitor the oil and gas levels for those using and paying for gasoline outside, every day changing the prices to fit with the constantly changing dollar equivalent and later making sure that there are no leaks in the machines outside and no unexpected fires due as a result from careless customers. In a way it seems we were the first defense against a potentially dangerous and terrible disaster, should a working car come into contact with highly flammable gasoline. This had been explicitly stated to me on more than one occasion during my initial training session.

And there were shift hours as well to consider, times in where specific workers would work in the store and when their respective shifts would end their work days every day. For me, I made sure to acquire as many shifts as possible, especially the closing shifts. No one seemed to want those as they warranted that the person in charge would have to clean all of the machines and record the amount of cash gained and losses for the day, but I did not mind as it allowed for me to sleep under a roof. It was a relatively simple operation I had made for myself before I started to hear more and more about the “meteor shower” on the news and the events that had been taking place subsequently after that. They had been primarily a cause of my wrongdoing, and I knew that, but I had been human. But then I heard about an incident that would warrant a case and therefore called Dean. I did not expect to spend the following 48 hours the way we had, but maybe it was for the best. After all, it did give me much to think about.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	11. March 11, 2016

Hello,

If you are not aware, the United States Postal Service was first headed by Benjamin Franklin, a man many give credit to for a variety of the creations. He helped head the system that many humans use as a daily staple of their lives currently. It is a very intricate and complex system of measuring packages and replying with certainty that they will be delivered in a timely manner, to be sure, but it also has the ability to give those standing in line to mail packages a very deliberate migraine.

I have not ever found a purpose for using the postal system during the time I have been here, but I have found the way the system operates to be a very fixed pathway full of interconnecting systems, checks, and mail carriers that span the entire globe, not just the United States. I also found out that while it is very simple to pay for a package to be delivered within the United States, international shipping, as it is referred to as, is astronomically high, even more so if the package needs to be delivered the following morning instead of within the next three months. 

I found myself in a Post Office today, which brings about the entire premise of this particular entry, but I did not imagine for the entire process from choosing the most adept box to weighing and pricing it at the front desk to be so time, consuming, even more so when there are multiple people waiting in the long forming queue to be aided. I can only imagine how this system must have functioned in its infancy, with Mr. Franklin heading the entire post of the then smaller United States. How does one not loose a package easier than now? I certainly would not be able to accurately deliver my packages if I were to have to go through the system as a human. I would read the address and then go there instantly, ridding the need to pay outrageous prices for these types of services internationally. I suppose I do understand why they are so huge, however. 

What do people normally mail? From it’s rules and various signs posted around the post office I am in, it is clear that there are not liquids or dangerous materials to be mailed, which I agree with wholeheartedly, but even so, do humans communicate via letters still? Do they not use the Internet systems in this age? I do not mind receiving mail through the traditional customs, but to do so would require a home address that the bunker does not possess. It would be interesting, however. How many people come into contact with the package before it is safely delivered? Does it fly? Is it transported by a car? I wonder how it would react to these tours of the world without having to pay, if packages could talk.

Dean had to mail a package to Jody and Clair once with non-lethal supplies, therefore it was safe to send without being discovered. There was no returning address due to the bunker’s lack of existence in the known world, but we did receive a tracking number that told us where the package was at all times. That was the most interesting part for me, to see the journey without having to leave to go on it. Yes, if packages could speak.

Dean called me a “crazy angel” when I asked him about it shortly after. I did not mind the comment, however, because I got a particularly odd voicemail from a man who’s voice resembled Dean’s saying that the package and it’s contents had arrived after having been across 6 different states. I knew it was Dean due to him being in the other room, but the sentiment was thoughtful nevertheless.

 

Yours,

Castiel

 

 


	12. March 12, 2016

Hello,

            I spent the majority of my time examining tree branches and their patterns today, for what specific reason I do not know. They, along with other beauties in nature, have been a small interest to me as they do not harbor specific patterns that they follow. That being said humans have still found ways to express them with mathematical formulae such as the golden ratio. What is it about trees, nature, and it’s abundance of seemingly random and nonobjective outcomes that interest me so?

            Do other humans look at the patterns tree branches make? How they separate from a single trunk to fill out the tree with leaves of various shapes, sizes, and textures all across the globe, each unique and different from it’s neighbor? Do they choose where they grow, or is there another force, another being, that even I have no heard of that dictates their movements? Does God handle this, or does he simply leave it to grow of its own volition? Are leaves but just a small representation of humans, in that regard?

            I may be delving too much into the subject by abstracting a philosophy from it, but regardless of how they are to be, tree branches and their seemingly endless growth do not cease to amaze. Even after they have been beaten, battered, or completely severed from the base, they grow back, and more often than not in a completely new and different form from their original shape. Like humans, they adapt to their surroundings, continuing to grow and learn even after they have suffered any form of loss, even limbs. Perhaps humans are learning from tree branches, or perhaps I am still learning about Earth and do not have the sufficient quantity of knowledge that would allow for me to rectify that previous thought.

            But could it be possible? Do humans perhaps carry the innate ability to learn from nature without consciously having done so over generations? Or do trees simply follow an alternate route that humans merely observed and mimicked? I fear I am only generating more questions than answers, but in seeing each tree line, each flash of bark, contrast with one another in such a giant forest one’s mind will have no choice but to wander into the metaphysical.

            The leaves are what many see first with regards to trees, but their branches, their roots, are just as intriguing, if not more so. This much I can say with certainty.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	13. March 13, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daylight Savings was today. It screws with everyone, even Cas

Hello,

            Neither Sam nor Dean are particularly fond of the notion known as Daylight Savings Day, especially when the clocks move forward one hour instead of in reverse. Both require at least some form of sleep, therefore when the world seems to conspire against them by adjusting time to fit with the seasons and calendar there is usually a very temperamental day ahead for us. I wonder if they are still doing that today, perhaps taking a small break from all that has been occurring and behaving like themselves again for once. It would certainly help them in some form. I have found that taking a small break from the subject that I have been staring at for quite some time does allow for me to approach the event again with a better mindset, but then again this particular issue is not similar to any other situation that we have found ourselves in.

            How solidified does this idea of changing the time for an entire species come to pass? I did not see of this type of change until the time in where the United States had first come to be over 300 years ago, but even before then humans seemed have this odd ability to adapt to the seasons and climates without the need to manually reset a watch. Therefore, who put into the idea that there must be a systematic response to this during the American Revolution? I do not remember, but my orders were different during that time and I was not one to spend enough time on earth to understand the social and cultural parameters of a fledgling nation. The issue still remains, however. Time can be a very complex anomaly, and yet humans have still found a way to add and remove time without throwing the entire system into chaos. It is truly a remarkable feat, even if it does make Dean groan annually on this particular day.

            I do remember one of the few times in which I had the opportunity to witness the change first hand, during a time where the Winchesters were fast asleep and I was left to stand guard or wander. The time would go from 1:59 AM to 1 AM again, which at first led me to believe that the watch must have malfunctioned in some way. All of the clocks had been turned in this respect, however, which only led me to believe that there must have been a haunting of some kind and the ghost had a particularly fond idea of playing with time in watches. This assumption was only further corroborated when I saw sudden lights flickering in the motel that we had been staying at, but my suspicions were laid to rest upon rudely awakening the brothers and causing them to aim pistols at the watches. It was only after they’d explained the concept to me and after I’d received a rather colorful bombardment of language from a rather angry Dean that I began to fully understand Daylight Savings Time.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	14. March 14, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pi Day :D

Hello,

Today is another one of Dean’s particularly pleasing days, as it is the day in which every market spontaneously decides to offer sales upon the pastry known as pie, which to Dean is very similar to Valentine’s day. From my understanding, however, is this day not supposed to be “Pi” Day instead of “Pie” day? It is a mathematical number, not a dessert encrusted in a flaky outer shell. Dean never seemed to care about that, however. It is very possible that I am the only one.

3.14, or rather the same integers as the current date, can much more closely be associated to a mathematical algorithm of sorts that best describes a quantity. The never-ending number that is π. With this knowledge, humans seemed to begin associating the name with it’s similar counterpart with the extra vowel, thus replacing a mathematician’s favorite day with a dessert lover’s dream in sales of pie across many boards. I saw many signs of the latter as I walked down towards the park and nature area of where I am, though the present location is something that I cannot discern.

I do remember this time last year. Dean had been attempting to control the Mark and revert to his normal self, something he struggled with daily up until the Mark was removed, but on this particular day he did come remarkably close to being himself, the Mark of Cain temporarily forgotten until, that is, the clerk at the store we had been in had to regrettably inform us that they had just in fact sold their last slice of Key Lime Pie to the gentleman in front. Dean did not take too kindly to that, and while he did not resort to complete violence, he did not also allow for the man to leave with the slice of pie. To reduce the size of this story so as to not take up the entire day, we are no longer welcome in the Good Pie Cafe.

The mathematical version to this day is rather rightly celebrated as well. I saw many signs and contests being held for those that can recite the most of the number, people with pages filled with numbers lining up one by one to recite the number in front of a small crowd. It was quite endearing actually, just watching human life enact a small annual ritual that has no basis in faith or religion, rather it was simply a day based in mathematical fact and a tasty dessert. I hope Dean received his pie for today, though if I know Sam I know Sam will not allow for his brother to eat until his brother feels sick. That was a particular year I’d rather not like to relive by writing it down.

 

Yours,

Castiel

 

 


	15. March 15, 2016

Hello,

            It is truly remarkable what a small amount of kindness can do to an individual. It could be from celebrating a birthday to a friend that has felt forgotten to simply blessing a person after they have sneeze. Many times humans may not realize the impact they leave upon others, but to those that they have helped the generosity knows no bounds. I do not say this due to a particular matter today, but a friend had been having a horrible day due to her college classes and received a tray of cookies from her family as a way to attempt to make her feel better. Kindness can be in the smallest of instances, but its effects can reverberated forever.

            Having been an angel as well as one that has fallen, I have seen the amount of kindness in this world and have documented it in the past, but with every passing day there seems to be a new form of the act that I have yet to see with my own eyes. Today it was the simple smile on a delivery driver’s face after having gifted my friend with the cookies. Perhaps he had been wondering about what had troubled the child that prompted the cookies to be sent? Or perhaps he was grateful to share in the moment. Or perhaps he was simply treating it as a normal job on a college campus. Regardless, he aided in an act of kindness by carrying that aura through to the end and making sure the package was received.

            I cannot help to think about my present circumstances when I think about others helping those out of sheer kindness, no known agenda masking their true motives. My brother tricked me completely, something I expected and accepted so as to help stop the Darkness. In a way, saying yes had been my act of kindness, no? I doubt I am using the term correctly, but I said yes so Sam would not have to, thus Dean would not be forced to fight his brother again. That did not turn out in our favor, even if we did manage to survive.

            So, what is kindness, truly? Is it the act of helping another individual, or the emotion we feel when we see the opportunity to help the ones we care deeply about? What spurs us to wish to help others if the idea of love or family is not the root cause? I have been labeled as kind in the past and I find it very flattering to be considered as such, which is why I wish to know more about kindness as an act. If the cause is helping then I know that helping others and serving is what I have done for my entire existence, but if it is helping others because of love, then that is something I am only just beginning to fully understand.

            No matter, I will find the source to this soon. Maybe it will bring about an end to the suffering that Darkness has caused, or maybe it will have no say in the matter, but kindness and doing something for another person just out of sheer happiness is quite the rare ability that I have seen in people, but that does not mean it is nonexistent in everyone.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	16. March 16, 2016

Hello,

There was a time in when I was human where all I could do at night was gaze up into the stars, the once bright beings that had since seemed to lack their lustrous quality after the angels were cast out from Heaven. It would make sense that I do not see a shooting star in the same light as most humans do, but at the same time I do remember gazing up at them in wonder and awe instead of sadness.

There are many instances in the universe in where I have been able to relate them to celestial beings such as myself, but in the case of the stars it can be quite fluid. Yes, they are gaseous systems that burn billions of light-years away from earth, their dying light only reaching us long after the star itself has burned out, but I have found that for many these stars can represent much more than a simple mass in space. A shooting star, for example, can represent a wish, which is what brought me to think about the topic of stars today.

From what I understand, it is customary to wish on a star, even if the star itself does not hold the power to grant the given wish, yet humans will do this anyway either out of habit or out of hope; perhaps both. I do not see fault in it, more so before the angels fell. Now whenever I witness the rare instance of a star shooting across the sky I can only wonder if perhaps it is another brother or sister, even if deep down I know it is impossible for that to occur.

There was a moment where I saw a shooting star during the time Dean came while I was working at the Gas-n-Sip station. He had jokingly said to make a wish, but all I could translate from that was for my wish to be to help, to fix what I had broken.

If only such monumental wishes could be granted.

This I voiced to Dean. He seemed to immediately understand the truth behind my words, as his face softened into one that very few people get to see; one of deep understanding and caring usually reserved for Sam, but sometimes myself as well. He understood what the image of a shooting star meant to me now as opposed to the generally accepted viewpoint, but he chose to not elaborate in an attempt to alleviate that had which been going on in my head, which I was grateful for at the time. He had already tried to convince me to stay and live a human life, but I do believe that deep down he knew that an angel’s life—much like a hunter’s—can never truly see achieve that state.

When I think about all that has happened since that night, even with current circumstances, I suppose that perhaps my wish did come true, even if it was not in the way I had imagined it. Am I being helpful now, after all this time? Did I make a mistake in saying Yes? I had thought that my intentions had been clear, but now I am not as sure.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	17. March 17, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's St. Patrick's Day

Hello,

Could someone please explain to me why I have seen such an overabundance of every shade of green imaginable today? I know that from a natural standpoint green is the most common color in the visible color spectrum for humans, yes, but... it began to feel as if no other color existed today except for the green hues.

From a historical context, today is the death day of Saint Patrick, and thus a day of feast for many cultures, and along with that it is a day to celebrate the Irish culture by honoring the one that brought much of it to Ireland. My only inference is that this must somehow be related to the amount of clovers I have been offered today.

There seems to be quite the stir in terms of luck today as well, which I can also only assume must be related to the global holiday of the celebration of Saint Patrick. Well, that and the particularly larger crowds in the local bars and restaurant areas, people dining out and feasting to their hearts’ content, unaware of the danger that could face them should my luck run out. Frankly, it is a miracle I have not begun to deteriorate at this point, and for that I can only be grateful to luck.

Sam and Dean are not particularly fond of the holiday with the exception for the amount of alcohol and happy hours that run throughout the day. Dean is not too fond of leprechauns, and also the feeling of luck that can be attributed to the day is also the brewing ground for potential cursed objects to rise and take the lives of innocents that were feeling particularly lucky.

This was the case in the past in where a four leaf clover that had been cursed to turn the owner into the slave of the giver, thus rendering a town nearly senseless as the item turned from person to person, the original owner becoming all the more powerful every time one of his victims passed the item to another. It was a confusing hierarchy, which led us to not figuring out who the initial person was for quite some time. We were only able to figure it out once Dean had been given the cursed clover, thus making him subject to the original giver, a harvest goddess that had a vendetta against her people.

Dean went through a fair amount of trials during his tour as an indentured servant to the goddess, being forced to throw us off of her trail by evading key questions and becoming completely mute and motionless, a statue in danger. All he could move were his green eyes, and after accidentally toppling him over on more than one occasion (one into a grassy field that had recently been visited by a wild animal I’m afraid), he was able to manually guide us to the harvest goddess’s dwelling, a cabin filled to the brim with exotic flowers and green orchards. It was there that Sam and I could dispose of her and free all of those that she had imprisoned, and it was also there that Dean said a few choice words concerning our hauling him around from place to place.

I suppose in sticking with the original question of green, Dean’s eyes were a particularly annoyed shade of the color. Actually, they were quite a few shades of a rather furious green, one that, along with the vast amount of the color all around us in the barn, made the entire scenario rather amusing. Naturally that made Dean angrier.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	18. March 18, 2016

Hello,

Rain can have such a distinct definition for certain people, while for others it is nothing more but an imbalance in the weather caused by the condensation of water molecules in the air. Rain, the proverbial homecoming of sadness or calm, perpetuating two different emotions while never changing its integrity, rather it is changed by the people that view it.

It is one thing to realize that rain can mean more than the course of nature, but it is another to feel it fall upon you, either mixing with the humidity to stick or feeling ice cold with increasing wind. I remember at first thinking it nothing more than the aforementioned force of nature, a side effect of the transfer of water, but feeling it today brought back long forgotten memories of moments of calm, peace, sadness, and serenity. In many ways, I believe my life can be described in different forms of rain.

There is the generalized version of rain, the teardrop shaped elements that fall in every day life. They come and go, pass the time much like everybody else, alive and moving while not always in a state of duress. That was my life as a soldier: mindless.

There is sleet, the rain that does not quite make it to snow, but rather is the one that pelts its frozen cores deep into the skin, a barrage of temperamental decisions resulting in their form. This was my life during the time I believed myself to be God, overzealous to the point of near total self-destruction.

There is snow, sleet’s diametrically opposed counterpart, unique and individual, yet never isolated from others. To see snow is generally a very pleasing experience, watching it slowly fall and accumulate on the ground, a new experience that can seem frightening at the beginning but can result in such a positive experience. This was my life when I fell. I fell gradually, I believe, experiencing Earth with time even with a different mindset. The reality of the principle of my fall to humanity only became fully realized was once my snow had touched the ground, joining it’s brothers and sisters on a new world already familiar in some form. It, while the hardest, remains to be a very eye opening experience. Yes, snow is my humanity.

And lastly there is hail, the one that arrives with a storm as its center. I have only seen hail a handful of times, but enough to know that hail can be the most dangerous, the one that is nothing but the gates guarding against a far greater power in the form of a tornado or a hurricane. In many ways, hail could be the backwards guardian, the first warning of impending danger that only grows in urgency with the proximity of the calamity. I cannot help but wonder if this is my life in the present and immediate future, my vessel serving as the only gate that stands between the world and my brother. Or perhaps hail will apply more to the impending battle with Amara? Or will my choices result in the onslaught of two of the most powerful biblical beings destroying the world? I have warned Sam and Dean now, but I never told them my original plan to begin with, therefore perhaps I am not hail at all. I said yes to a particularly devilish storm, thus allowing for him to walk the world again with me the only one that can even attempt to control him even if the attempt could fail.

Maybe rain is nothing more than a natural course of nature, my life nothing more than a result of my actions and their repercussions, but the question still remains: am I the rain, or the catalyst for the storm?

 

Yours,

Castiel

 

 


	19. March 19, 2016

Hello,

There was a time once in where I was tasked with following orders from a then inexperienced leader. I did not know what this person would do, but orders from above specifically dictated that I follow whatever he said, and so I did.

The interesting part in this was that I did not stop listening, I did not stop following this new leader, learning more about why he chose to work in the world that he did and why he was so important to so many people. For the longest time I believed that there was a greater following, that I was meant to serve without questioning the morality of my orders, which given who I believed them to be from, was quite the feat.

But then I rescued a human taken before his time, one tasked with a much grater power that only he and his brother could complete together. What I did not expect to find was that I also fit into that equation for it to be successful. I have always served; helping others as an angel in the garrison had been hardwired into my being. It was all I knew, therefore I should have been accustomed to following the orders of another and then detaching myself once the newer case arose. Why I failed to do that then is still a situation I have trouble to explain in detail.

He and his brother did the same work; only they chose to do it out of their own free will. They chose to help on their terms, not ones that ha been set before them. They have both dealt with loss and uncertainty, soldiers that grew up serving a purpose much like myself. The difference between us, as I later began to realize, was their determination to be their own selves, to be the ones that help others without the rules of conformity and complacency that comes with following orders without question.

The once inexperienced leader I met became a beacon of hope for many along with his brother, the first and final form of authority when in the presence of a greater threat. Revenge now long since acquired, they have elected to stay in their trade, to continue to help where they can and learn from where they could not. They taught and angel the meaning of self-awareness, what it truly means to be a member of Earth, not just a servant of Heaven.

That is why here today, in watching children and families enjoy themselves oblivious to the ruin that currently face, I think of the Winchesters and myself. We have traveled a journey unlike any other with much of our work still left unfinished, but with this trial will come a resolution, one that those with the capabilities and tools to accomplish it, will vanquish the darkness. I can only hope that I am doing my part as well.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	20. March 20, 2016

Hello,

It seems today was a trivial day for my brother. There had been no recent news concerning Crowley’s whereabouts or the Winchesters, thus I have a feeling Lucifer was left with nothing but to listen and attempt to rule his domain in some form, which he did not do. The day resorted to sitting on a throne listening to the decrees and proclamations of demons and their accounts, much to the growing resentment I knew my brother felt. He did nothing to aid the demons in their deals, and when one would speak up they would be mercilessly disposed of. Patience is not a quality he possesses.

I listened to their stories, however. After all, there was little to do now that I had begun to hear more and more with every passing hour. There were tales of prisoners in hell no longer cooperating to torture, deals gone awry as more hunters disemboweled the ones that held the contracts. Even the hellhounds were beginning to get skittish; their stomachs empty due to malnutrition as a result of Crowley’s disappearance. It seems Hell is resorting to, well, hell.

Is this truly what it is like to rule over a people, to not listen to them in an attempt to help, even if they themselves are corrupt souls? I know that in my past I have not been as willing to aid in areas where I very well could have, but it seems that even here there are broken promises. This honestly should not surprise me. I am in the middle of the most notorious liars in history; therefore corruption within their ranks is likely if not expected.

With the way Lucifer continues to behave I suspect there will be a revolt soon, either headed by Crowley or under completely different circumstances. He may be the devil, but he has been beaten before, and he can very well be again before he is able to stop the Darkness.

It has also just occurred to me that today is the first day of Spring.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	21. March 21, 2016

Hello,

To wake up or be awake before anyone else is to see another world in my opinion. The bustling alleys and streets are nonexistent in the early hours, next to no one in sight for miles even in the most clamorous of places. The only exception is the occasional drunkard that would stumble out of the bar, but even then he would quickly be on his way and out of sight. Dean has done that a few times.

One of the most pleasant ways to see a new area is by visiting it at its lowest season, when not even the locals are out of their beds. This way one has the ability to appreciate the smaller details of the town that would otherwise go unnoticed in the crowd of visitors and tourists. Take the local water fountain not too far from Lucifer’s lair. Guarded by statues of my brothers and sisters, the area is usually marred by the public eye and renders the ability to appreciate useless after a couple of seconds.

But seeing the statues and the fountain begin to flow for the day in the early hours is another story. With the sunrise masking the water that begins to pour from the epicenter of the fountain, I see an array of colors that otherwise would have been muted by clothing reflections under any other light. Field trips and many tourists frequent the small fountain area, but to the locals it is best appreciated as I described: undisturbed and open for the world to see.

My brother, for all his faults, seems to have a soft side for the outward appearance of the world, which would explain the constant trips to the forested areas. This particular fountain, however, seems to be very important to him. I believed we had been not too far from the demon domain on Earth, but the longer I watch the more I feel as if I have been mistaken.

It was only once I caught the signs in Spanish that I realized we were at the one statue dedicated to Lucifer himself at the geographical center of Spain. I am only glad that he chose a time to not be around humans.

 

Yours,

Castiel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is an actual statue dedicated to Lucifer in Spain, in case you were wondering. Many Spaniards avoid the area 'cause the grass around it is always wilting. Creepy, huh?


	22. March 22, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you see the name "Ana" pop up here or there, that's the name of the person that runs @castielsentries over on tumblr. Just think of her as "you" if you want.
> 
> Also, this was the day Brussels suffered through as terrorist attack, so emotions were on high.

Today was marred by a devastating event in Brussels today. The attacks that occurred are horrific and terrible. My prayers are with the victims and those affected by today’s attacks.

 

Hello,

There is massive movement at present. I have witnessed more demons consulting and speaking to Lucifer with every passing day, today being more frequent in the last two hours than the past month. There is talk of Crowley and his whereabouts, talk of the Winchesters and their recent cases; it has become more of a headquarters than I have ever seen, even with demons continually shifting and averting their eyes when spoken to. It raises the question of just to whom their loyalties truly lie.

I’ve attempted to consult with Lucifer for a while now, attempting to steer him back to the matter at hand instead of his walks outside for air with his newfound sense of freedom. He will choose to ignore me from time to time, especially after the attempt on Sam and Dean’s lives, but I do see small moments in where some words that I have said stay with him. It is a slow process, one that may never have an end with my brother, but for now it would seem that my brother is considering my propositions. Either that or he is putting up a poker face that evades me from seeing his true intentions. It would not be the first time that occurred.

I have not had any contact with the Winchesters for close to a month now. The only information I receive concerning them come from demons’ reports about their whereabouts, but knowing Sam and Dean they are incredible at covering their tracks enough to potentially purposefully throw off demons on their trail. Even with that, however, Lucifer now knows the location of the bunker. If he somehow remains on earth than the bunker will have to be warded against angels again or else abandoned, something that would be a massive loss for every hunter, not just Sam and Dean.

A demon just entered the main room with news. I will have to go for now.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	23. March 23, 2016

Hello,

It had been a while since I heard a silent prayer, one that Lucifer could not hear. At first they were frequent, loud, pleading. Gradually they lessen, grew quiet and at odd times in the night. It had also been a while since I could not sense Dean, though Sam seemed okay. Did they go on a case? What occurred that caused Dean to disappear to forcibly for a long time? Or was it a short time? Hours, minutes, it was hard to decipher, but the matter remains in that Dean went missing until he returned.

I know Lucifer felt it, the lull, but he did not act on it. Surely he knew the Winchesters were doing something that could have proven to be disastrous, likely deadly, but in the end the balance was returned to normal. He no longer felt it as his concern, I suppose.

But then Dean prayed, a prayer configured in a way that would only be heard from the one the prayer is meant for. They had been hunting a soul eater and Dean had been trapped inside it’s lair, which would explain his absence for an unknown amount of time. He vowed again that he would return to working on finding me and expelling Lucifer. I am not sure he understands the ramifications of my accepting my brother. Surely Dean knows the effects of having been possessed, of feeling as if another entity is taking over your being, using your power in an attempt to stop another force, be it good or bad? This is service, this is my way of helping. I cannot return before Lucifer has done his part, even if he is not actively looking for a way to end Amara.

He spoke of a girl he met in the nest, of seeing Bobby and thinking it a hallucination, of seeing so many damned souls taken by this monster, eaten alive with nothing to go back to but a barren corpse and a corrupt Heaven and Hell. He tells me about how the world needs to be saved, but he cannot save it. I do not know if he knows I can hear him, but he must know that he is helping far more than I can at present with what little Lucifer has accomplished in the past month.

He tells me about Sam saying that I may not want to be saved but doesn’t elaborate on the matter. Why, Dean? Is it because you have no words to help or because you believe it to be true? Because I am expendable? Or because you do not wish to see my end come in this way? It does not matter in the end. I have already made my choice, but that does not stop from me finding comfort in listening to a silent prayer today. 

He ended it by promising that he would find a way, that he would not stop until he found a way. He must know that not everyone can be saved. I have made peace with that, but that does not mean I am not content to know that Dean cares enough to say it.

 

Yours,

Castiel

 


	24. March 24, 2016

Hello,

Baseball is a foreign entity to me. Neither Dean nor Sam actively watch it therefore I only understand it to be a sport most commonly played in the United States and one South American country. There has been recent news regarding the start of spring training for the American baseball series from my understanding, therefore I found myself in a baseball stadium not long after. 

I landed in the game between what I can only assume to be the team from Philadelphia and the team from Atlanta. Their team names are quite confusing. I did not know "brave" could be plural, and are natives from Philadelphia commonly referred to as Phillies? How do the teams go about choosing their colors for their teams? Or is it not a decision that falls on the team players?

...

I suppose I should pay more attention to the game instead of the players..

The game seems to be very tension filled, and the player throwing the ball to the one holding the bat is extremely agile, pitching at close to 90 mph on average. To be able to hit a ball that quickly is a testament to these players' reaction times. The fans as well are very interested, and also fairly loud. I have already witnessed more than a few debacles between umpires and fans over baseballs. I may not understand the game, but conflict like that was most likely unexpected but oddly very common in a game. 

I also did not expect the baseballs to become homing middles of hit incorrectly by the players, causing them to be thrown into the crowd. I witnessed more than one nearly knock out an unsuspecting bystander. One actually came close to where I had been standing, landing a few feet from me. I was going to go and pick it up, but the mob of children intimidated any advance I thought about making. This ball must be very important to them, enough to snarl like demons at me for even attempting to advance towards the ball. I can understand why Dean does not follow the sport on one end, but on the other it is quite amusing to watch the audience that watches the game. 

It seems that it will be called off for rain soon if the booming voice over is anything to go by, but the experience was worthwhile to say the least. 

 

Yours,

Castiel


	25. March 25, 2016

**March 25, 2016**

Hello,

Today is Good Friday, a day usually reserved for lament and sorry due to the death of Jesus, and this coming Sunday is Easter. It is a day of reflection; therefore that is what I chose to do today.

As an angel I served Heaven; this has already been established numerous times in the past three months alone. It was the longest part of my life, serving Heaven with not other purpose, but I have begun to think that it was also the part of my life where I learned the least. I required a vessel to walk the earth and I only observed humans, never truly interacting with them. I experienced the world through the lens of an ignorant, seeing but never comprehending. It was not the way to live even as an angel, and it was most certainty not a way to serve as an angel.

Then that part of my life ended with rescuing the Righteous Man from hell. From that moment I began to transition from the soldier to the curious. I began to see the world through a much more intimate lens, one that allowed for questions and mistakes to be made so as to understand. Yes, the consequences were astronomical, but had I not truly chosen on my own accord then the world as it is today would most likely be drastically different. For that I do not repent.

From the curious I became the traitor and later the human, faced with the same hurdles and obstacles that others have learned to adapt to since birth. I did not have that luxury, rather I began to live without knowing how. My only source of understanding exiled me from the bunker for a considerable time, leaving me to see the world through the eyes of the most afflicted, the ones that have seen the fires and have been dealt the wrong hand. It showed me the meaning of human life that I would otherwise not have known.

I retained my humanity in some form, even after recovering the little grace that remained of my essence. I became the nature of an angel, but I was no longer the soldier from the beginning. I have learned, understood, experienced Earth differently in the past decade then I ever did in the past millennia. The solder was gone, but the angel remained, now without a direct purpose yet with enough knowledge to know that he did not need one. I was cast out, shunned, and spoken of in an entirely different light, giving me a different outlook on my purpose.

That was when I went from an angel to a vessel. The entire cycle became complete, but where does that leave me now? Does Lucifer start his journey where mine ended? That cannot be, for that would then mean he could then walk the earth freely and I highly suspect that he would not garner the same experience that I did. I am now a vessel, a passenger with no choice but to watch what my choice results in. Where will I go after this?

 

Yours,

Castiel


	26. March 26, 2016

Hello,

Lucifer elected to search the African plains today on the grounds of a missing weapon. There must have been some allure that prompted him to do so on this particular day, but instead I felt myself with more mobility than I have had in a over two months. After a while the search went from surveillance to exploration for me.

I am not sure what particular country I was in, but I did see quite the sparse amount of wildlife in my travels today. Animals and animal life in different habitats are entirely unique, are they not? With the temperature in Africa I cannot fathom how they cope year round. What I have begun to see more of, however, is the lack of animals in certain areas, such as one or two antelope or a handful of elephants. These are animals that exist in herds, no? But they are being hunted and sold to extinction, no end in sight. Long ago these planes and areas all over the world were full of animal life and families within their respective ecosystems, but now, it is almost as if the families no longer exist.

I did see a pack of cheetahs earlier. They still seemed to function as a family rather well, and the mother is more than overly protective with her cubs. She is also incredibly fast once she spotted me. That is not a memory I would like to relive. If you ever find yourself in the presence of a cheetah that is hunting, do not attempt to observe. I have found that they do not like it at all.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	27. March 27, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Easter and the Easter bunny. Aww.

Hello,

Long ago, Easter had a much more significant meaning to the religious, but in the present era the holiday has turned into something else entirely different and more presentable to even those that are not religious. Now the day is filled with rabbits that hide chocolate filled eggs amongst the flora of backyards across the world. There are entire festivities and events dedicated to this animal crusader, and for a very long time I was left with a very strong desire to understand why a rabbit leaves Easter eggs when rabbits do not in fact lay eggs to begin with. Also, why were the eggs filled with candy or other assortments? Is placing normal eggs considered unconventional and thus frowned upon? Also, how does this mythical rabbit somehow manage to carry out such a feat of hiding these buckets of eggs overnight without so much as a small amount of aid? I suppose rabbits repopulate quickly enough therefore there is more than one ‘Easter bunny,’ but the egg question still remains in my never-ending exploration of human customs and culture when concerning religious holidays.

Sam would acknowledge the holiday in a more religious sense than Dean, as Sam has partaken in Lent in the past to an extent, but neither Winchester seemed to actively participate in the matter. I suppose, given what they have seen and witnessed, it is understandable, but in where Sam does attempt to form a faith around it, Dean is much more interested in the commercial side of the this Sunday holiday.

In the past, Dean has raided stores and aisles for Easter egg candy that would then be put on sale, therefore allowing for him to acquire more for less. There was one year in where after I had asked him about my concern with rabbits laying eggs Dean took me to one of the local ‘egg hunts’. He said that he would take Sam to these events to meet the Easter Bunny until he was 12. Apparently the rabbit had then taken to leaving dead body parts instead of decorative eggs one year that resulted in Dean’s father having to kill it. The ones left now are put there by volunteers in the early morning and are thus safe for the children in search of them.

We had stayed for a couple of hours upon my request. I wanted to see how the entire hunt would go and whether or not the children would murder the eggs. It was then that Dean decided to tell me that it is merely referred to as a hunt, but it is not one of “our hunts”. Language can be tricky.

This particular hunt required that all attendees, regardless of age, would have to partake in one egg hunt event, thus preventing Dean and myself from leaving quickly. After an attempt at bribery went horribly awry (the little girl would not take the money kindly) Dean was forced into playing an egg throwing game that involved hitting a few bottles. He did not intend to win, but we left with a considerably sized gray rabbit holding a basket of chocolate rabbits that we could not drop off on the side of the road (it was a considerably sized stuffed animal). Many of the townspeople seemed to mistake us for a different relationship type upon seeing Dean throw the rabbit at me as we were leaving, but this only prompted Dean into rushing to the car much quicker and us leaving the premises much faster.

That rabbit as left in the hotel we had been in during that particular time, but the memory of that Easter was quite memorable indeed.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	28. March 28, 2016

Hello,

Have I ever spoke of the human skeleton? 206 individual pieces that fit together differently to form similar structures that encompass a vessel for a human being. The body can be broken, sprained, or misaligned and still function normally after a sufficient amount of time to heal. This I have realized to be common knowledge after witnessing the amount of cuts, gashes, and bruises Sam and Dean have acquired over the years. 

Bones can be brittle or smooth, large or small, and yet despite the differences they will accumulate and shape themselves into these unique armatures that are then filled with human life and animated to their own volition. How odd must it be for different spices to experience these movements so independently and yet still pertain to the same organism. Humans are a part of animals just as much as animals are a part of humans, and yet not a single one looks identical to another, even under the most similar of microscopes.

I had never truly considered the skeletal system as something that I realized I was thinking about until the time  in where I could feel the dulling pain in my bones that comes from waking up in the morning after a particularly gruesome exercise or work load. Just flexing the hand and realizing the flex was a result of 27 bones working in conjunction with one another to be able to grasp a bottle of water or hoist oneself out of bed. Do humans think about this often?

I have yet to speak of the muscle system, which is even more varied than the skeletal system. These are the ones that can be trained or weakened by our every day choices, and they are also the most easily recognizable on the human body, particularly the abdomen and shoulders. These fibers that string the body together are the nerves that allow for movement to be even possible. They set the limitations, but humans and human minds are the ones that surpass them with training, flexibility, and sheer tenacity to do so. There can be a range from 640 to 850 bones in one given body, therefore the strength is immeasurable. From my observations I believe that Sam has around 780 while Dean has 740 different areas of muscle fibers. Both Winchesters must keep themselves trained; even if Dean would much rather gorge on cheeseburgers than a nutritional meal. They’re bodies in the form of their bones and muscles systems have endured far much, and I find that my own has also been through a considerable amount of stress. What is amazing is that, despite the strife, distress, and pain that we have suffered, we mend and we get stronger from out strain. The human body truly is remarkable.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	29. March 29, 2016

Hello,

Today was another day marked by thunderstorms, but it was also a day in where memories resurfaced that I had not thought about for quite some time.

There had been a case last year that involved erratic weather patterns that would spawn tornadoes and thunderstones not unlike the recent ones attacking the East Coast at present. The culprit had been a water nymph that have been wronged by a recent lover, ‘causing a tirade in torrential downpours and rising of lakes and freshwater beds. It was one of the few times in where we all had to scavenge the local water areas so as to find the creature, which required both brothers to train themselves to hold their breaths for longer than 30 seconds underwater.

The nymph had been at a particularly deep waterbed in Lake Superior, which prompted the renting of a boat and the need to coax her out of her dwelling. What transpired after she was on the surface resulted in nearly drowning Dean and severely disorienting Sam while I was pushed towards the bottom of the lake and was the one to end her officially. She had moved the boat violently while Dean had been thrown into the water with the creature, leaving Sam to hold on and fend for his life in the equivalent of a small waterspout in the middle of the lake. I dove in after Dean and effectively managed to switch the both of us so that it was me that the nymph pulled deeper and deeper while I registered Dean vaguely kicking back to the surface. He did not take kindly to water.

The nymph did not realize that I did not require the ability to breathe, but because it had become relatively second nature for me to do so I too momentarily inhaled and ingested a few mouthfuls of murky lake water. That was not sanitary...

Once I had resurfaced I was pulled back up onto the boat, and it seemed my lack of needing to breathe also had escaped the Winchesters for the time. Both were quite concerned upon seeing me, but their demeanors quickly changed to relief when they saw that I was relatively unharmed.

That night also had a thunderstorm despite the nymph’s death. The morning after there was a substantial amount of debris on the roads, enough to prompt Dean to not leave the motel for another day so as to not hurt the Impala. I cannot help but wonder how they all are with the storms outside today.

        

Yours,

Castiel


	30. March 30, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ties with an episode in Season 11 that didn't have Cas in it. The name of the ep escapes me at present though.

Hello,

Something happened. I felt it. Something happened to Sam and Dean.

It was slow at first, a pain that worsened until it stayed as a numbing sensation towards the back of my brain. I knew Lucifer could feel it to for he continued to scratch the back of my head in irritation, but this was not my work.

The pain erupted after a few hours, this blinding fear instant yet completely confusing. I somehow knew its origin, however. Something terrible had happened to Sam and Dean. 

I felt instantly nauseous, as if my mouth had been full of pills, the pain traveling down until it settled in the pit of my stomach. Dean. Something happened to Dean. They must have been on a hunt, but this pain did not feel like a scrape or a bruise. It felt like a gunshot wound and a pill concoction; in other words deadly sensations. It felt like fire raging, inextinguishable and forever burning. Dean was dying.

Lucifer seemed to have felt the distress, but he fought to make sure I was unable to move to aid them. I knew where they were. I always knew, but I was only able to begin moving freely before I felt myself get thrown backward, nearly colliding with some imaginary force that pushed itself upon my mind. All the while I could feel Dean and Sam’s souls weakening. What had attacked them? They were more than capable to handle themselves, but not this time. It had to have been something.

They are in danger and I cannot help them. They are in this situation due to my actions and there I am helpless to provide any sort of healing or rescue. The pain was becoming unbearable, up to a point where I thought death would could for me as well if it could.

But then from pain came nothingness. Every sensation subsided and I felt relief and worry mixed together from somewhere in the corner of my brain.

They were okay. I am not sure how I knew this, but they were okay. Whatever creature it had been that had caused such considerable pain must have been killed. Either they were back in a motel or an area that was safe and tending to their wounds or they had gone to an area to do that for them

They had survived without my help. They were going to be okay. I had not realized I had yet to make any movement at least in the area that I had to move, but it was only after the entire situation subsided that I even began to question its existence to begin with. What had happened? What had Dean done? Had he died? Was that what death felt like? Certainly not, but this entire sensation was new.

What had happened?

 

Yours,

Castiel


	31. March 31, 2016

Hello,

There is still a slight pain from yesterday, but it had become almost a sort of background sensation more so than a deep feeling. It is residual and caused by the events of what had transpired yesterday. At this point I can only make hypothetical conjectures on the matter.

There is a growing tension, mounting quickly with each passing week. Activity has not ceased, and there have been recent rumors regarding the reappearance of Crowley. Lucifer had taken to residing within the confines of his compound, this limiting my ability to see beyond where he would turn and to whom he would speak to. He had spent the last few days in a serious mood, something very uncharacteristic of my brother, but that does not mean I believe he is truly working on what he had agreed to do without resorting to some sort of private agenda. There was much to consider, but even in this state of affairs I could not understand how certain items went with his plans.

There were slightly more weapons then last, but at the same time there were other utensils such as paint brushes and gray scale colors, almost as if a painter were about to enter and sketch in the room. The art of painting is something that I would like to talk about, but I am afraid that memory must be saved for another time. Yesterday’s feelings are still too unknown in their origin for me to fully grasp another memory to speak about.

There are reapers entering and leaving every few hours, either checking in with Lucifer or surveying the scene presented to them. I am unsure of what this all means but I do not see it being positively connected to finding a way to stop Amara or finding another Hand of God. Perhaps the rumors concerning Crowley must have something to do with that information, but without any ability to gather concrete evidence I am at a loss for further understanding.

There has been recovery where there had also been pain. The events of the past week have not helped in comfort those in need of comforting, but it has provided some sort of information, albeit uncorroborated, that there have been massively unexpected events that have greatly affected certain individuals. These next coming weeks and their hopeful ability to provide new information will be crucial in understanding what happened to Sam and Dean and where our situation lies.

 

Yours,

Castiel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today was the "There" entries it seems... I just realized that and I wrote this months ago oops...
> 
> But anyway, Hope you enjoyed March :) Don't forget that all entries are taken from @castielsentries.
> 
> Come on over and say hi!

**Author's Note:**

> All entries taken from castielsentries on tumblr, which can be found [here](http://www.castielsentries.tumblr.com.com)
> 
> Feel free to drop by and say hello :)


End file.
